Missing
by Tom Tomorrow
Summary: A team member disappears during one of Scorpion's next jobs and the team is torn apart trying to find her. What happens when she appears back at the workshop two weeks later, injured, disoriented, and covered in blood? Is the Scorpion team equipped to handle the situation? Will they figure out why she was taken and what happened during the time she went missing?
1. Chapter 1

There was blood. A lot of it. It was thick, it was hot, and the sheer volume of the crimson liquid made its presence brutally unbearable. Much of the dark fluid was disguised by the darkness of the night, but what the streetlights did illuminate didn't leave a lot to the imagination. A thin trail of blood trickled steadily down her face from the gash on her temple. The right side of her blue tank top and favorite maroon plaid shirt were heavily coated with the red substance. What was left of it was torn in several places. Her bare feet left red imprints on the sidewalk. They had taken her shoes, after they'd realized she was a kicker. And then her socks, just to prove that they could. Each step was filled a foggy, but painful jolt up her right leg. Cumulatively, making her stride seem like an awkward, sideways shuffle. But she refused to stop. Would not stop. Even though her body was begging for it. Even though her pace had to be slower than a snail on a bad day. Because the captors that held her hostage for god knows how long, surely wouldn't have released her without getting what the wanted. They surely wouldn't have released her at all, especially in an area so exposed to civilians. Especially in an area she knew so well.

Her vision blurred as hobbled down the street slowly. The ground seemed to swim underneath her feet and she found herself stopping several times so she wouldn't loose her balance. Random people cast furtive glances of pity in her direction, some even asked if she needed help, but she cast them away with a glare. She could take care of herself. She'd been on her own for as long as she could remember and had found herself in several less than ideal situations. If her body would just pull its self together, then she could make it on her own. That's what she told Walter wasn't it? Maybe that's why they did not find her in time? Why her captors had to release her, instead of the team jumping in and saving the day. Another surge of unwarranted resentment went through her mind. She knew she should not be angry. Not at herself for being too weak to handle the pain. Not at the pedestrians for having the goodwill in their hearts to help a stranger who obviously needed it. Not at the team for despite having all that brainpower seemingly not having resources to find her. If there was anyone she should be mad at it should be those godforsaken sons of bitches that thought that they could coerce her into doing their dirty work. It was mortifying and excruciating, the things she experienced in that hellhole. The hellhole so far away from everything, that no one probably even glanced up when they heard her screams. She had managed to land her fair share of kicks and punches, but six grown men outnumbered her one. They always did.

And yet they let her go. Dumped her on the side of the road like a bag of trash and sped off in their sickly yellow Mercedes-Benz Sprinter. They didn't even seem to slow down as they rounded the corner. She had the sense to wait until the van had turned the corner, and then a few minutes after, before booking it in the opposite direction. Well… limping away in the other direction.

But that adrenaline had long since faded and the pain had become unbearable. Her pale, shaky hands held onto the wall for support as another wave of nausea attacked her and her vision turned spotty again. The workshop was around here somewhere. All she had to do was get there and she'd be in the clear. She sifted through her cloudy memory for its location and prepared to turn down another alley. There it was. The workshop. It appeared that only one light was on in the building, which was unusual for this type of night. But she could not bring herself to care. All she was concerned about was reaching safety before she passed out on the street. Her world tilted sideways as she reached front door and pounded on it with what was left of her energy. Because of course the door had to be locked with Sylvester and his antics and the lock pick kit, she usually carried with her had been taken from the kidnappers, by the end of the first day. Not that she had the equilibrium for it, it took all her energy just to listen for a response. At first she heard no evidence that anyone was there. Then foot steps. A bolt unlatched as the door opened. She squinted as her eyes adjusted to the bright light and when her vision cleared, the figure revealed itself to be the newest member of their team. Paige. Paige with her perfectly applied makeup and flawlessly maintained hair, despite one arm being in a cast. Paige who actually was a genius in her own right, skilled at translating the world for the antisocial, too high functioning guys that made up the group. And Happy could have not been and luckier to see her face. Paige's expression was akin more to shock and horror, after taking in the smaller woman's beaten figure that stood before her. Her son, Ralph, lingered in the background, his unfinished equation on the board in the back of the room, as he came to investigate the cause for this disruption. For a moment no one moved and not a single sound was uttered.

Then… "… Happy?" Paige murmured in disbelief. Happy gave what she hoped was an affirmative nod, then lurched forward as her legs gave out from underneath her and her eyes rolled to the back of her head. The mechanical prodigy groaned as her vision faded to darkness, but before she succumbed to complete unconsciousness she managed a small smile. At least she was home.

Paige launched into immediate action after her Asian friend collapsed on the floor. She screamed for the boys to come down the stairs and her voice must have sounded despairing because even Sylvester was down to the main room in mere seconds. Agitation was written all over their faces, none of them took to kindly to being interrupted, especially when the stakes at finding their friend were dire. But it was erased as the room went to a standstill once more, when the men realized that it their favorite mechanic lying crumpled on the floor. Then everyone snapped into action. Walter took charge and began barking orders. He and Toby immediately lifted Happy's small frame off the floor and onto the couch. Sylvester ran to grab some water and dishrags as ordered, while Paige ran in the opposite direction for the first aid kit. When the pair returned with the necessary supplies, Walter and Toby had already propped Happy's bare feet up on the couch and peeled the blood-laden shirt away from Happy's stomach. Paige almost recoiled at the sight and she backed away in revulsion. Happy's abdomen was littered bruises covered in clotting blood, all leading to one very serious looking injury on her bottom right side.

"Uh…Use the water to wipe away the blood and t- then use the dry ones to stem the bleeding." Walter babbled. He sounded so shell shocked, like he didn't know what he was doing. That was the only time Paige had ever seen him like that.

"I- I have to get my gloves. The amount of germs a-and viruses and diseases transferred this method is at a exceedingly hig-" Sylvester rambled as he tried to back away from Happy's unconscious figure.

"Well, hurry up then! We can't afford to lose time, she can't afford to lose time." Walter interrupted as he began cleaning the awful crimson stains from the mechanic. Sylvester was back in a number of seconds, wearing surgeon gloves from the huge supply he maintained constantly.

While Sylvester and Walter wiped the blood away, Toby had used a pocket flashlight to examine her eyes for pupil dilatation. When he didn't say anything and continued with the rest of his examination, Paige assumed that meant okay. Toby carefully cleaned the rest of the blood away from Happy's temple and applied butterfly stiches to a long, but shallow cut. What could have caused that? Paige couldn't help but wonder.

As the pile of bloody rags grew larger, Paige began to see the full extent of Happy's injuries and she felt sick to her stomach to know that someone could do this to a human being. Her heart lowered further when she realized, there could quite possibly be more.

Who could have done this to her? Just over two weeks ago, Happy had been snatched in the middle of a job. It was an unanticipated variable. No one had been expecting any setbacks. And it tore the team apart, especially when they couldn't find her. A human calculator, a behaviorist, and a hacker with the fourth highest IQ in the world couldn't find one person. All the leads they chased turned up dry. And if they hadn't had been there. Hadn't participated altercation that took their friend from them. Then it would have seemed like she just dropped off the earth. Just disappeared. Even Agent Gallo went to some government contacts in an attempt to locate her, but it was all to no avail. Day after day had passed and Sylvester bleakly reported the decreasing odds of finding her alive. But they refused to believe it. She wasn't dead, wasn't gone, just missing. Until tonight. When she just turned up on the doorstep, while they were busy chasing another lead.

Walter ran his long fingers up the mechanic's right leg. "She fractured her tibia and dislocated her phalanges. I think she pulled a tendon. Something has to be done about the blisters on her feet as well." Walter recounted monotonously as if he were listing things on a piece of paper. Then he readjusted Happy's lower body to have better access to the other leg.

"Her pupils aren't dilated, so she doesn't have a concussion, but she was obviously er, hit in the head." Toby added off handedly. He ran a hand through his hair and adjusted his hat. He could still feel the bruise on the back of his head from the pipe that had hit him. The behaviorist motioned for Paige to hand him more dry rags and he started applying more pressure to Happy's abdomen. By this point, his hands were covered in slick, slippery blood. Happy's blood and that made him concerned. The bleeding from the abdomen was not slowing down. It wasn't flowing fast, but it showed no signs of stopping either.

"Uh.. Uhh… .We should take her to a hospital! Statistically with these injuries, the odds of survival if left untreated-" Sylvester rambled anxiously before he was interrupted by Walter and Toby's objections.

"No. Sylvester. You're our human calculator. The odds of whoever took her still being out there have to be pretty high. The hospital is a place where they would expect her to go." Walter said shutting him down, at the same time Toby had protests of his own.

"This is Happy we're talking about. A textbook example of Anger dissonance syndrome. The same person who hit a marine in front of the head of Homeland Security. When she wakes up she's not going be in the brightest of all moods. She's going to be scared, she's going to be angry, and she's going to want place that anger on something else. And we don't want her taking out half the hospital or taking out her self." Toby muttered at Sylvester, to focused on trying to stop the blood to put any real effort into the argument.

The situation was deteriorating rapidly.

"Guys! Compromise! If she doesn't wake up in the next 24 hours or if anything happens medically that we can't fix with this travel sized first aid kit then we're taking her to the hospital. NO EXCEPTIONS!" Paige yelled. They were all momentarily shocked to silence, Sylvester was posed to open his mouth again, but he must have realized the odds of him winning weren't high, and muttered grudgingly before launching back into the examination

A small hand touched hers as she observed the chaos. She flinched for a second before realizing it was Ralph. Her son. She had completely forgotten about him and a boy his age should had never have to witness something like this. But evidently he had already seen too much.

"What happened?" Ralph asked in his raspy whisper. Paige felt that familiar unsettled feeling she got whenever she couldn't answer a question Ralph asked. And this was one she definitely couldn't because they were all asking the exact same thing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Tom Tomorrow speaking, you might want to reread the first chapter. I edited a few things and the following chapter would make a lot more sense if you read the first one again. **

Six hours passed achingly slowly. The early morning sun inevitably rose mockingly bringing light to the entire atmosphere, as if it hadn't acknowledged the darkness of the events that occurred the previous night. The tension in the atmosphere had not slackened as the time ticked by. Only Ralph had succumbed to sleep, exhausted by the events of the prior day. It was his small, frail body that lay curled in the only other couch in the room. His small head rested in Paige's lap as she absentmindedly ran her hand through his hair. The darkening circles under the rest of the adult's eyes however, illuminated how they, in any good conscious, could not get any rest. Instead the busied themselves with otherwise trivial tasked. Sylvester had scrubbed the floors clean of red stains and disposed of the bloody rags on the ground. There wasn't anything that could be done with the couch. Not at the moment. But it would eventually have to be disposed of because even now they couldn't look at it. Not with what had happened.

Walter and Toby sat in the folding chairs they'd pulled up against the couch, watching over their fallen friend for the slightest change. Toby fidgeted anxiously, his hands wrangled with the hat that he rarely ever took off his head, his foot tapped the floor insistently. Walter sat on the other end unblinkingly; he had rarely moved. But stayed with his elbows balanced on his knees, his hands intertwined, his eyes never moving from Happy's figure. Both men were particularly closer with the smaller women than the other two members of Team Scorpion. Whether it was just because they'd known her longer or if there was an actual background to it, both men cared deeply for the somewhat emotionally closed off, easy to anger woman in a platonic sort of way.

Paige had been with the group long enough to know that Happy thought she could take of herself. Long enough to know that the smaller woman had gotten in more than her fair share of fights. Fights that she usually won, but also fights that had necessitated the purchase of a first aid kit. She had walked into the workshop on more than one occasion to see either Toby or herself being ordered to sterilize bloody scrapes or stich up cuts that had been inflicted on the younger woman would stubbornly insist that they should see the other guy. Most times the group would shake their heads, when they saw her limp in. Walter would admonish her. Toby would just tease. But they both obviously felt protective of her. Walter had gotten her a hammer for her to pound out the issues. Toby ended up giving her the Seeing Red book for reference. So the fights had become less frequent. When Happy did show up with a bruise, Walter would point to Paige, and then the men would go about their business, because they'd know she'd bounce right back. She always did. Until she didn't.

Happy's pale form hadn't moved of her own accord since she collapsed on the floor in front of Paige the previous evening. She didn't look nearly as grievous once the blood had been washed away, but now the bruises, brown, green, and yellow in color, stood in stark contrast to her light skin. The only movement that Paige could see was the slight rise and fall of her chest and even that seemed labored. She looked away and instead focused on her arm, the one that was encased with the darkening plaster cast. The original pain had reduced to an aching throb, but the cast wouldn't come of for another couple of weeks. A wave of guilt washed over her, it was nothing compared to what Happy had endured, but it was a remaining mark of the events that led up to this cumulative event. An event that led to Paige's arm being broken, that led to Toby's gash over his left eye, that led to Happy dropping off the radar for almost two weeks.

_Two weeks ago…_

_It was supposed to be an easy job, but then again the easy ones never were. They had been investing a massive embezzlement allegation. The rich CEO of the Fortune 500 Company Zenatech had been siphoning gene data away from its customers and selling the gene codes to pharmaceutical giants for millions of dollars. The Scorpion team had been sent in for number crunching. Hacking the system, finding out to what offshore account the money was being sent to, producing the evidence to put the corrupt official out of a job, and devising an algorithm to decrease the likelihood of this mess ever occurring again. All quietly of course and off the books. Because despite what the CEO had done, the company was a very valuable resource to the government, and if news came out about corruptness, the company would undoubtedly go under. So the mission was a covert operation, only on a need to know basis. But apparently more than just the government had known. _

_The Scorpion Team had had a very specific timetable and set of instructions of how they would carry out the mission. Walter and Sylvester would end up doing most of the work. They would both enter the premise under the guise of being research analysts, with the aim of reducing production costs, find a hypothetical hole to dig through, and destroy the CEO from the inside out. It was something they'd done many times before when scamming others for money. It should have worked perfectly. Should have taken a week tops, but a series of events occurred that threw everything off schedule all starting when Walter and Sylvester entered the lobby._

_The two geniuses had been sent off for a random check, one that hadn't been recorded in the official report by Agent Gallo and his men, nor witnessed in the sweep Walter had done through the company's entire system. Apparently their names weren't on the manifest, not that it mattered the receptionist had said, because the CEO wasn't in town any ways. He wasn't even in the same country. It irked both of the individuals, who were used to things going as planned. That neither had calculated the probability of this occurring and that no inclination of the CEO going out of town had been made prior to their entrance. And they must have seemed agitated because she had asked them to step to the side. An obvious sign of mistrust, as Toby would have noted, but they had carried on lest they seemed suspicious. It had left them both in an isolated room that hadn't appeared in the official blueprint as they went through standard Q&A procedure and according to Sylvester, a decreasing probability of them actually completing the mission. And of course the predicament, left them isolated from the rest of the team. Cut off from video, audio, and visible communication. Which resulted in Walter and Sylvester being spared from the real problem the Scorpion team was about to face._

_The remaining three had been waiting by the van for instructions, radioing in with Agent Gallo on the as needed basis, and keeping tabs on the other duo through coms. Happy had monitored the communication line from the inside of the van while Toby had profiled the occupants of the building for suspicious behavior. Paige had stayed with Toby as she picked up tips and learned from his behavior. Everything had been rolling smoothly. Until they saw Walter and Sylvester being led away from the front desk. That set of warning flags in itself. Happy had yelled something to them about the cons going offline, something more in line for a security firm rather than a genetic research system. Toby had been increasingly worried that the team had received bad intel. There was no way they should have been this unprepared, have had this many obstacles. Toby reached in the car to radio their supervisor, the duo's disappearance had obviously put a hiccup in their plans. He never got the chance. Everything went to heck before he could even touch the walkie-talkie._

_A large, chunky unobtrusive van had roared through the parking lot and skidded to an abrupt stop in front of the team's red classic. With almost imperceptible speed, the back doors burst open and three large, robust men donned in combat boots and black, military like vests jumped out and headed right in their direction. The men easily stood over six feet tall. They'd had the strong build of wrestlers and their marked skin alluded to the willingness to be involved in a fight. Both Paige and Toby had the sense to back up and Happy immediately immerged from the back seat, having the prior knowledge to know that closed quarters and fights didn't go well. But their reaction speed was slow. They were caught off guard. Unprepared. The men were on them within seconds. _

_Toby had gone down first. The largest goon had grabbed him by the scruff of his jacket with one hand and the back of the head with the other and lifted him of the ground with brute strength and slammed his body on the hood of their own car with visceral force. Their behaviorist had collapsed almost instantaneously and his limp form had been thrown to the side. Another man had grabbed Paige by her wrist and twisted it sharply as he pulled her back towards him. A sickening audible crack and even more grotesque pop had been heard as her shoulder was simultaneously dislocated and broken. By this time, the few civilians that had been lingering in the parking lot had ran screaming, dialed 911, or just stood like idiots videotaping the entire thing as if seeing people getting assaulted was the funniest thing in the world. Paige was still trying to recover as the man pulled her back towards him and was down on the ground wheezing for air when he delivered a large combat boot aided kick to her stomach. Another sharp kick caused her eyes to blur. Where was the back up? Agent Gallo had to realize something was wrong when they didn't radio in. _

_Her vision blurred and hearing faltered as another kick threatened her consciousness. She prepared for another, but the man abruptly turned away to join the others to take down the last man standing, Happy. In the background, she could see Happy fending off one of the attackers, but when the other two joined in it became a fight that she obviously wouldn't win. Two offenders had lifted her in the air by both arms and for a moment Paige feared that she was going to receive the same treatment as Toby. But instead the third curled a massive fist and buried it into the woman's stomach. Happy had coughed and tried to catch her breath as she tried to wriggle out of their grasp, but to no avail. Another fist delivered a sharp uppercut to the jaw and blood flew from Happy's mouth from the force. The bulky man prepared for another throw, but one of the others stopped him, tapped his watch, and must had have told the man they were on a time crunch, because they dropped Happy to the floor. _

_One of them lumbered over to the car, grabbed the computer Happy'd been surveying the feeds on, and snapped it in half with his bare hands. The walkie-talkie received the same treatment, emitting a loud screech of pain as the frequency died. Had someone known about what the Scorpion team tried to do and tried to prevent it? Had someone known they would be there? The Calvary still hadn't arrived. As her vision grew darker, Paige saw one final act by the masked men that would leave her mind in turmoil in the weeks that followed. As they returned to the car, the last man stopped, lifted Happy by the back of her shirt, and threw her in the van. The door slammed after them, the getaway driver started the car up again, and they roared out of the parking lot. The entire incursion took less than four minutes. But it would be the last time they would see their mechanic in over two weeks. Mere minutes later, the cavalry did arrive, but they were too damned late. Toby was unconscious. Walter and Sylvester were holed up in security. Happy was MIA. Paige, herself, was barely hanging on. The cavalry was always too damned late. _

Paige was drawn from her memories, when she heard a ragged, but sharp intake of breath. In an instant, their formerly unconscious friend, had shot to her feet and over the other side of the couch away from the group. Walter and Toby flew from their chairs to a standing position; both had flinched away in obvious surprise, but immediately stepped forward in concern. Happy, however, continued to stumble away, watching them warily with unfocused, cloudy eyes. She was awake, but clearly seeing something else. Toby had evidently realized this as well because he motioned for Walter to back up. They retreated further back and Happy did the same… _The cavalry was always too damned late. Why were they always so damned late?_


	3. Chapter 3

Having had seen Happy's state the previous night, Paige would have never imagined seeing their mechanic in an any more devastating condition. It had never occurred to her, that in the two weeks that passed, their friend had suffered mentally; in additional to the physical harm, and it was the mental damage that scared the prior waitress the most. The physical injuries had been fixed with the gauze, the tape, even the goddamn Band-Aids. The scars would eventually heal. They'd been prepared for that. But the supposed mental experts, Toby, the behaviorist, and herself, the EQ expert, had neglected, in the rush of the previous day, the potentiality of what would happen next. Knocked off their game. Distracted so much with keeping Happy alive, they barely considered the consequences her ordeal would have on her brain, but one look at their mechanic determined that both the physical and mental would both largely remain a problem.

The shifty, glassy look the younger woman's eyes held almost broke her heart. The strong, confident look the mechanic's eyes usually possessed was gone. Now replaced with a mix between determination and vulnerability. Happy, in her rush to get away, now leaned heavily against the wall behind her. The adrenaline from the sudden action had long since disappeared, as evidenced in her shaking form, which was hunched to the left side in an effort to stabilize herself with minimal pain. Her left arm was pressed against the wall to maintain balance, while the other arm was wrapped around her torso. A slight shift in position revealed that Happy's stomach wound had reopened**. T**he crimson liquid had seeped through her shirt and was now dotting the floor with its volume. The silence that had blanketed the room previously, was replaced with an even more anxious silence. The only sound was the laborious breathing of the team, as the geniuses rapidly composed a game plan.

"Back up now. Slowly." Toby had instructed quietly, practically pulling Walter backward, his eyes not daring to move away from their shivering friend. A rapid hand jerked in Paige's direction, gesturing for her to do the same. Only Sylvester had had the sense to stand back, preferring to assess the situation from afar.

"It's PTSD. Post-traumatic stress syndrome. It's a uh severe anxiety disorder that can develop after exposure to any event that results in psychological trauma." Toby recited. "Resulting in intrusive memories like the flashback, Happy must be experiencing right now."

"I know what PTSD is Toby." Walter bit out.

"I wasn't talking to you! And you know I think best out loud!" Toby snipped back defensively. "We have more important matters to worry about anyhow… If we don't get a handle on this situation, she's only going to cause more harm than good." he had murmured, casting another furtive glance at the mechanic. Walter had nodded something in agreement, and then had turned to face Paige.

"Paige, you're going to have to talk her down." Walter instructed. Though she cared for her friend dearly, facing her without knowing the reaction she would get worried her a little. Before Paige could put the filter between heir brain and her mouth; she had questioned why it was her that was being chosen, rather than the trained psychologist.

"Why do I have to talk her down?" Paige had asked nervously. "Toby's the trained psychologist." She immediately wished she could take back her words and inwardly cursed herself for her presumed selfishness. Happy was hurt and scared, but she could not help but worry for her own safety as well.

"PTSD heightens anxiety, meaning emotions such as irritability and anger increase. Combined with her diagnosis of Anger Dissonance Syndrome are going to make her extremely touchy and combative." Toby spouted off quickly, knowing Happy didn't have the time for lectures, but somewhat understanding Paige's need for reassurance The stricken look on Paige's face showed that he hadn't made a very good start. Toby had frustratingly tried to explain further before Paige had the chance to object, but Walter jumped in to justify his instructions.

"From what we've gathered in the previous events, she was taken by men. Most of the injuries judging from the depth of the wounds and by the variety of weapons and the methods in which they were used, could only mean they were caused by several men. Combined with the childhood, well if you want to call it that… The point is Happy's very uncomfortable with men, especially now. It would be easier rationalize with her and get her to calm down if someone she doesn't associate with all the pain goes to talk to her." Walter simplified

Paige swallowed. She could not think of a reasonable objection, and looking at the mechanic she realized that there wasn't much time for excuses. "What do I have to do?" she asked.

Sylvester who had been quiet throughout the whole exchange spoke up. "Approach her slowly. She's 42% less likely to react aggressively. An additionally 10% less if you maintain eye contact. Don't touch her, unless she lets you, otherwise there is an 63.5% chance of her lashing out destructively." Sylvester said. Paige had nodded trying to collect all the information being delivered.

Steeling her nerves and remembering the advice that her coworkers gave to her, Paige slowly made her way around the couch.

"Hey… Happy." Paige murmured quietly. She talked as if she was talking to Ralph on one of his bad days. Happy did not respond. She never even looked up. Even as she drew closer, only a couple of steps away, the mechanic made no indication that she had even acknowledged her presence. It was highly likely she hadn't. Happy was clearly still stuck in her own world, and it was obvious that she was still dealing with the pain. Paige could see that Happy was barely holding it together. She was shivering, wavering back and forth, and not even standing straight. Yet she refused to sit down, apparently not wanting to put herself in a vulnerable position. Putting up that familiar tough front. Something that Paige had witnessed, when she ever had the 'pleasure' of seeing one of her previous confrontations.

"Happy?" Paige hesitantly asked and forgetting what they'd told her, brought her hand to Happy's shoulder. Almost instantly, the hand supporting the mechanic had flown from the wall, in an attempt to rebuff the advance. It had been successful to a point, having roughly removed Paige's hand from her shoulder. Unfortunately, it had also severely impacted her equilibrium, and without Happy or Paige herself supporting her, the mechanic tilted sharply to the right. Her immobilized leg had failed to support the additional weight and the combination of events effectively ended with the mechanic sprawled out on the floor. Paige was down next to her in seconds, effectively blocking the boys' view of them from the other side of the couch.

"Are you okay?" Paige asked and then mentally berated herself for asking. She had not received much of a response anyway, only a pained cough. Their mechanic had managed to slightly curl herself into a somewhat fetal position. Happy's knees were drawn up to her chest, both eyes were tightly shut, and her arms were wrapped around her torso. Around the same area which had been rapidly oozing blood for the last several minutes. Paige swallowed the lump in her throat. She needed to get bandages on that wound before the blood loss became something they couldn't handle. She put her hand on Happy's shoulder again, refusing to give up on helping her friend. The mechanic did not flinch away this time. Whether she was genuinely accepting the touch or too locked up with the pain to do anything about it, Paige did not know, but she was glad that she was making some progress. She could feel the smaller woman shivering under her touch and began rubbing in circular motions on Happy's shoulder in an effort to calm her down. It was something Paige's mother had done many times when she had been upset. Something, given Happy's traumatic childhood, she had probably never experienced that touch of reassurance.

"Look, Happy. You obviously need help. I know you think you can deal with this alone and you probably don't even trust any of us right now. But, you won't be able to keep this up alone. Toby, Walter, Sylvester, and I, we just want to help. We're not the men who took you. We're your friends." Paige murmured quietly as she tried to comfort Happy. "We're here for you. Toby, Sylvester, Walter, and I. We're all here for you. We just want to help you. You won't be weak for letting us help."

The mechanic only shrunk further away. Paige felt a rock forming in her stomach, the geniuses on the other side of the couch had to have made a mistake. She only was making this situation worse.

"I… It-t hurts." Happy bit out in a gravely, pain-filled voice. Paige almost jerked her hand away in shock, but had managed to pull herself together in time. That was progress. Progress was good; she just had to keep her talking. Maintain eye contact, that's what Sylvester had instructed

"I need you to open your eyes for me Happy." Paige said softly.

She could see the struggle it took, for Happy to pry her eyes open, but she was hesitantly relieved when the orbs weren't glassy with the past, but glassy with pain instead. Paige hoped it was a sign that Happy was no longer caught in the thralls of her flashback.

"G-good. What hurts?" Paige asked nervously, unsure how comfortable Happy was with her presence.

"It-t hurts. Everything h-hurts." Happy said, barely able to get a coherent sentence across. "They keep on... They keep on making it hurt." The mechanic's voice grew cloudy and slurry as she struggled to talk with Paige.

"We need to let the boy's help you. They have all the aid necessary to make it stop." Paige comforted, purposefully ignoring the acid that came rose in her stomach, when Happy kept on mentioning a "they". How could so many grown men do this to someone half their size? She slowly helped Happy into a sitting position and tried to get a better look at her eyes to see how hard she fell, but the younger women refused to look at her again, instead preferring to look at her feet.

"They keep on making it hurt." Happy murmured again, sounding hopelessly lost, the complete opposite of what Paige had come to expect. "Make them stop." Happy drew in a ragged breath and tried to say something again, but this time Paige quieted her. The mechanic was obviously talking in circles and going nowhere fast. Right now Paige was only concerned on making it better, but she also realized that Happy needed some empathy. She wrapped her unbroken arm around Happy's shoulder and gave her an awkward one-armed hug.

"It's okay. You're safe now. It's okay." She whispered. Happy shuddered against her and she drew in another strained breath. It had taken a couple more strained gasps on Happy's part, for Paige to realize she was crying. Silent tears streamed down her face, mixing with the clotted blood of her injuries. Upon this realization, Paige gripped her tighter and rested her head on her companions.

"It's okay. You're safe." she said again. They sat there for a minute as Happy continued to cry, but Paige knew they could not sit there forever. Happy still had a serious wound that needed to be addressed.

"We're going to stand up now okay?" Paige asked, not really expecting an answer, not really waiting for one either. She gave Happy a minute to recover, to pull herself together, before slowly pulling the mechanic to a standing position. They awkwardly shuffled back to the front of the couch, back in view of the boys. Happy had avoided their eye contact as Paige put her back down on the couch. The boys looked hesitantly at Paige and then back at Happy when they received the affirmative nod from the waitress. The men had the decency to ignore what they had heard, to pretend it hadn't happened at all. Sylvester dove behind the couch with a set of wet wipes to clean up the blood on the floor. Toby and Walter, having apparently discussed something beforehand, approached Happy slowly with the first aid kit and slowly began redressing the wounds. Happy had sat stone-faced on the couch, her eyes tightly shut, struggling to keep herself grounded in reality, when Toby and Walter began to remove the worn bandages. As the time ticked by and the pile of bandages grew on. Paige. Paige never moved from Happy's side.

Perhaps the greatest faculty our minds possess is the ability to cope with pain.


	4. Chapter 4

_Two weeks ago…_

_A cold rumble of metal vibrated steadily underneath Happy. She could feel the jagged metal of the marked ground as it perforated her skin with every movement. Each jolt brought fresh waves of pain to her throbbing jaw and reestablished the familiar coppery taste of blood in her mouth. She first assed the injury with a sweep of the tongue, spiking the discomfort level further, but confirming what she already assumed. No broken teeth. She'd just bitten her tongue… badly. But how though? She knew from experience that it would leave a spectacular bruise by the end of the day._

_Another sharp jolt pulled Happy out of her thoughts allowing her to refocus on the matter at hand. She reached to further examine her jaw, but something else inhibited the movement. Something had stopped her hands from moving. The deterrent felt plastic, slightly rough to the touch. Zipties? Something was not right here. Her foggy mind tried to string things together, but the nausea made it difficult to concentrate. Her vision blurred when she attempted to get a better view of her surroundings. Only revealing distorted glimpses of a grey, riddled floor, metal benches, and the soles of some very worn combat boots. Above her, she heard muffled voices speaking in a language that sounded vaguely familiar. _

_Where were Paige and Toby? She could distantly remember them standing with her, but now her colleagues were nowhere to be seen. Her vision cleared slightly as she regarded the combat boots once more and shifted them upwards to the man that filled them. He faced away with her but stood with a confident military stance as he communicated the other men. A stance that told her he was a force to be reckoned with. One hand rested lazily on a sheaved hunting knife and the remained clenched next to the small of his back. He'd apparently disrobed his jacket and ski mask and it only heightened his formidable appearance. His arms that were riddled with scars and spots and Happy could see the muscles that rippled with strength underneath them. Muscles that could punch holes in the walls, lift people up, and throw them across a room. Like Toby… A wave of clarity shot though Happy's mind as everything rushed back. The job at Zenatech, Sylvester and Walter being arrested, the fight that the remaining team members had engaged in. A fight that occurred with the men Happy was with now. _

_She glowered as she remembered Toby and Paige going down in the scuffle because as experienced as they were, they were not trained fighters. Toby getting his head bashed against the car door, by the very man in front of her. Paige breaking her arm in the fight with the other. The men leaving them on the ground like garbage. Yet they took Happy. And since they left her alive, there certainly had to be a reason. _

_Her eyes drifted further, examining the interior of the vehicle. Happy could tell from the internal layout that she was in a Citreon Jumper Van, model LWB. A costly, innovative piece of equipment, known for its durability and efficiency. This 2005 model had two back entrances. Full sliding doors that slid open almost two full meters. On any given day, she'd broken out in seconds. Unfortunately, her lock picks were in the left boot, three foes were in close proximity, and she was a little more than tied up at the moment. There were too many variables in a jumbled equation she could barely solve._

_The van went over another bump and Happy slid forward unintentionally. The man nearest to her whipped around when he heard the mechanic groan, smiling erratically as he did so. As they moved closer, Happy acquired a much clearer view of her assailants. She was slightly surprised by the diversity of the three men that smirked down at her. One was clearly Asian, most likely of Japanese descent. Another appeared to be Columbian. Both had Jericho 941's in their holsters. The man that towered over her resembled someone of vaguely European ancestry. There had to be at least one other individual, the person who was currently driving the car. Four against one. Unless, of course, there were more when they reached a rendezvous point. _

_She silently weighed her odds and scrutinized the men once more. Eastern Asia, Columbia, and Western Europe had virtually nothing in common. Nothing at all. There should be no reason that these men of high caliber should be caught in a room together. The only way several men of this diverse social and political background would ever work together is if they had an incentive. Only if they had money, because anyone would do something for the right amount of cash. Which meant someone had to be bankrolling this. Someone with a lot of cash, time on their hands, and inevitably more people. Someone that knew the Scorpion crew was doing a job at that exact time and location. The odds were not looking too good. _

"_Well, look who's back to the land of the living?" The first man jested cruelly in flawless American English. His clear absence of an accent disregarded her assumption of European background. _

_Happy set her jaw and pretended to disregard the query, not giving the man the satisfaction of her being low enough to answer him. _

"_What? No talking?" More silence on her part. The Caucasian man became visibly annoyed, then angry in the matter of seconds. A short fuse. Without warning, he reached for the scruff of her shirt and pulled Happy roughly to her feet. The surrounding captors dwarfed the mechanic's scrawny size, so much so, that Happy's feet dangled off the floor as he pulled her to his height. _

"_You answer your superior when they talk to you." The man growled. Happy could almost smell the musky aftershave and stale coffee that radiated off him as his grey eyes, devoid of any spark of emotion, glared menacingly into hers._

"_No one can make me an inferior without my consent." Happy snarled back. _

_He swung Happy against the side of the van. She saw stars as her body connected to the steel wall with a loud clatter. The other men stood languidly in the background and appeared vaguely amused at the way things were going. Happy scowled; she wasn't the type to go down without a fight. _

_The mechanic grabbed her free hand, reached for the larger man's pinky, and pulled it sharply backwards, effectively dislocating it. The man temporarily loosened his grip to adjust to the pain, which allowed her to slip out of his hold. With her newfound freedom, Happy swiftly broke his nose with the palms of her hand and delivered a powerful kick between his legs. Not missing a beat, she shoved the disoriented man to the front of the vehicle, sending him tumbling into his other companions. She palmed her lock pick kit from her boot and quickly cut the zip ties that help her hands together. Happy did not have much time to enjoy her new found freedom before the other men grabbed her roughly by the arms and pinned her against the back door of the van. The mechanic instinctively used the momentum of her legs deliver a sharp kick to the Asian man's thigh, but he barely faltered. The iron grip only tightened as she struggled futilely against of the two of them._

"_You should not start fights you know you can't win." The Columbian man whispered unsympathetically in her ear. The larger man was picking himself off up the ground, nursing a broken finger and sporting a ferocious bloody nose. _

"_Big mistake." He murmured furiously. Without hesitation, the man pummeled his fist into her stomach. Happy saw stars. She coughed as she tried to inhale the breath the force of the blow had taken from her, but she never got the chance. Another hit landed on her torso, followed immediately by an uppercut to her already aching jaw. Happy coughed violently sending a thin spray of crimson to the silver floor. She vaguely felt the other attackers release their grip as the American threw her to the floor. Her ears were ringing as she refocused her energy, but the men didn't stop there. They sauntered forward slowly, going for an intimidation tactic. They knew there was no way for her to escape. Happy, however, savored the time to prepare for the incoming attack._

_She gazed warily as the apparent ringleader sauntered forward. Still coming off the high of the recent success, the men had let their guard down. They weren't even trying to block themselves anymore. She grinned bloodily in a dazed glee; it would be their funeral. _

"_An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth." The American grinned cruelly and lifted his leg for a well-aimed kick, but Happy was prepared. She leaned into the blow and pushed his leg up at an awkward angle, once again putting the assailant off balance. Then she lunged for the hunting knife, she'd seen earlier at his side. She wrenched it from his sheath and rolled back to left, but apparently not fast enough. He grabbed her foot and yanked her back towards him. Then, suddenly he was above her with his hand clasped around her throat._

" _David! Hey David! Boss wants her alive! She needs to be alive to finish the job!" The Japanese man shouted in the distance, but made no visible effort to stop him. Her vision darkened. The other man in the back clearly wasn't trying to prevent the attack and their companion sure as hell wasn't stopping himself. It became quickly apparent that this man would have no qualms about knocking her unconscious and she had no idea of what these sociopathic monsters would when she was out. The man never made a move for his knife; he probably didn't even know she had it. It was now or never. Her grip on the knife tightened as she embedded it into David's side once. When David didn't falter, she pulled it out and did it again. _

_The man groaned in confusion, and then distress, and then pain, as he lurched off of her. Happy shuffled back in shock as she felt his warm blood spill over her hand as she pulled the knife out from the soldier. The mechanic had no time to comprehend what she had done; there were still two others to worry about. She scrambled to her feet pointing the weapon shakingly at the other two._

_The other men didn't even flinch. Each held a pistol in their hand pointed directly at her. _

"_Remember Omar… We can't kill her." The Japanese man murmured to his remaining companion._

"_Wasn't planning on it." He muttered, slightly shifted the position of his gun, and pulled the trigger._

Present Day

"You need to eat Happy." Walter reprimanded. "You're not stupid. You know what will happen if you don't. You need the energy."

His words fell on deaf ears. It had been two days since the Toby and Walter had rewrapped Happy's wounds and she had barely eaten or spoken since the incident. Instead the mechanic had curled back into herself, most likely trying to internalize the pain. She seemed perfectly content to forget the entire breakdown that occurred only hours before. To pretend it never happened. That frustrated him. Because statistically, internalization was much less successful than other methods. And Happy was a genius, she should know that. But unlike him, Happy actually had some EQ. And it was irrational for him to assume she would react to whatever happened in a completely normal way. Irrational to assume she could handle it on her own. The more he thought about it, the more he realized he was not frustrated with her. Not exactly. Walter was frustrated with the situation that they'd been presented with. A situation with too many variables and an irritatingly missing answer. Although though Happy was back, they were no closer to solving the equation.

Instead she sat there, head on her knees, with tortured eyes, gazing emptily at nothing. Paige sat vigil on the sofa next to her in silence. She had barely moved either. Unsure what would happen if she moved away. Sylvester had taken Ralph across the room to distract him. Walter thought it was futile. The kid was too intuitive to not know what was going on, but he agreed for the girls' sake. Toby shuffled cards in the folding chair across from him, never taking his eyes off his friend.

"Come on Happy you c-" Toby started, but he was interrupted him.

"You know I stabbed someone." Happy said monotonously, no indication of emotion at all. The scorpion gang looked up startled. Toby tried to say something, but Happy continued before he could start.

"I stabbed him. Twice." She continued dryly. "Right here."

The mechanic's hand drifted lightly over her grievous torso wound. Paige moved to stop her, but she shrugged away.

"He…" Happy paused to gather her thoughts and Toby found himself second guessing his concussion diagnosis. "He was trying to make me do something I didn't want to do. They were trying to make me do something I didn't want to do and I didn't do it." Happy murmured vaguely. "Does that justify it? Did that make him deserve a knife to the gut?"

"It doesn't matter now. You did what you had to do to survive. It's basic human survival instincts, you can't stop it." Toby firmly stated. She visibly simmered; something about that comment annoyed her.

"You can't stop human instinct, but you also can't sweep it under the rug. You can't ignore it. You guys of all people should know that!" Happy ground out. Walter frowned as he listened. Happy was not angry with them, despite her heated tone. Too him, she sounded confused. Like she was trying to put something together and because of her dissociative personality, it came off as anger.

"You shouldn't- you shouldn't be able to do that. They should have killed me for doing something like that, but they didn't." Happy uncurled from her position, brow furrowed in concentration. "Instead they let me go…" she whispered quietly, talking more to herself than the others.

"What?" Toby asked in bewilderment.

"They let me go!" Happy shouted in pure unbridled fury. They let her go? Then she was off the couch and on her feet.

"W-what? Happy! Where are you going?" Paige asked frantically.

"I- I'm getting for my hammer. I need my hammer." The mechanic ground out as she stumbled toward her workstation.

Walter turned away from the group. Why would they let her go? Kidnappers simply didn't just get bored. When Happy had stumbled back intro their lives the day before yesterday, he'd naturally assumed she escaped. That's why he immediately vetoed the idea of taking the mechanic to the hospital. But if they let her go… That changed things because if Happy was right. If Happy had not given them what they'd wanted. That meant they weren't finished. They had been laying low for the last few days, making sure the kidnappers weren't still looking. But if they had intentionally released her. Then their plan hadn't been derailed, it was ongoing. It meant the kidnappers weren't done yet.


End file.
